Notes from Gentlemen of Fortune & Others
by hurricane1714
Summary: My responses to The Broken Compass' drabble challenge and plot bunnies that I had to kill. Genre and rating of drabble might change. It really depends on what the plot bunnies are. Prompt 11: Music
1. Prompt 1: Graveyard

Hiya! My first response to the Broken Compass' Drabble Challenge. This week's prompt was Graveyard. I tried to creative. Enjoy!

* * *

Will never forgot his first day as captain of the Flying Dutchman. He wondered if any of the previous captains had to ferry men they had killed to the other side.

He would always remember gliding across the obsidian graveyard for the dead at sea and picking up men he had murdered. The most painful memory was recognizing a man he had killed during his wedding. The poor chap had been named Joshua Bryant. When he had found out what had happened, he began to weep. He told Will that he was leaving a wife and two daughters alone in the world, without anyone to support them.

At that Will left him, sickened by what he had done. He leaning against the mast, breathing heavily. He didn't think he could do the job upon him, but he had to.

* * *

Sorry it's so short, but I made it up on the fly.


	2. Prompt 2: Chaos

Hey all! Here it is. Hope you enjoy.

I own nothing

Thank you ChaosandMayhem for beta-ing this.

* * *

Marty liked it when it was his turn to climb up into the crow's nest. The wind whistled in his ears and the rocking of the ship still gave him a slight thrill. He shaded his eyes and peered over the rim to try and see ships that could either be sluggish prey, loaded with goods, or streamline predators, eager to blast the _Black Pearl _into the watery depths.

Suddenly a voice rang out. "Wot do you think you're doin' with my ship?!?"

Marty looked down. Jack and Barbossa were standing at the helm, most likely arguing. Again.

"I am fulfilling my duties as captain, Sparrow," retorted Barbossa.

"Who made you captain? I want to kill 'em."

"The crew," said Barbossa smugly. "And I think even _you_ would regret killin' the crew."

"The crew never voted on who would be captain!" Jack reminded him.

Their argument was interrupted by a yell of "Me eye!"

Jack, Barbossa, Marty and the rest of the crew snapped their heads around to see Ragetti climbing up the rigging, as he chased that stupid monkey. Little Jack was screeching happily, dancing out of Ragetti's reach, the new glass eye in his tiny furry fist.

"Now, Jack, you'll be givin' Mister Ragetti his eye back. 'E's a full fledged crew member, like yerself and 'e'll be treated as such," said Barbossa, not missing a beat.

"If the little flea-infested, bag of undead bones is a crewmember, he should be whipped for stealin' Mr. Ragetti's eye," Jack pointed out.

"I'm inclined ta agree wit' Cap'm Sparrow at the momen'," said Ragetti, pushing his eye in. Little Jack had reluctantly handed over after Barbossa's command.

"See, he agrees with me!" crowed Jack, triumphantly.

"Shut up," growled Barbossa. "How do you go about whippin' a monkey?"

"Well, first, we'd have to catch the bothersome fur ball..."

And the arguing recommenced.

Marty, chuckling to himself, went back to looking for ships. Life on the _Black Pearl _was back to its absolutely normal chaos.

* * *

R&R please and thank you!


	3. Challenge 1: TVSD of Gibbs

I was going to write something angsty, but this crack!fic raised it's ugly head. Do not take this seriously.

Characters belong to Disney and The Very Secret Diary format belongs to Cassandra Claire.

The Very Secret Diary of Mister J. Gibbs. 

Day 1: Boring day. Just sailed around looking for Jack Sparrow. Captain Norrington is obsessed. Might have something to do with the fact that JS has eluded capture since forever. Norrie has some serious issues w. pride.

Day 2: Much better day. Raided Spanish galleon and blew it up. V. pretty colors and extra rations. Go us!

Day 3: Stopped by Barbados to celebrate. Got drunk and laid.

Day 4: Well, well whadda ya know? Sparrow's been caught. Captain Norrington (the only crew member not drunk last night) found him in some tavern, smashed. Tricked him into brig of the _Duantless_. Am impressed with Norrington. Going back to Port Royal to hang Jack.

Later: Heard noises from the captain's cabin and went to investigate. Saw BAD THINGS. Let's just say Norrie's pride is NOT the reason he is obsessed with JS. Jumping ship ASAP.

Day 5: HAhaha! Apparently Jack was shackled during the –ahem- activities last night and stole the keys when Norrie had passed out on him. After unlocking himself, he stole on of the rowboats and is gone. No idea where he went. Went back to Barbados and looked for him. (Couldn't find him) Took opportunity to jump ship.

Day 6: Norrie hasn't noticed I'm gone. Got drunk and laid again. Am starting a new life without harsh punishments, dictatorial rule and sodomy. Go me!


	4. Prompt 3: Wild and Untamed

I had tons of fun writing this one! Jack just telling a funny story about a wild, untamed night he and some friends had. Virtual cookies to those who can spot the _Watchmen _character! (It's pretty obvious)

I own nothing.

One Wild Night

"Excuse me, ladies and 'gents. I need your attention."

All of the patrons at possibly the most famous tavern in Tortuga, The Faithful Bride, stopped what they were doing to look at the eccentric man standing on a table.

"Jack Sparrow," growled a big burly man that had a scar on his cheek. "You owe me ten doubloons."

"Ah! My favorite funny man, Edward Blake!" exclaimed Jack, grinning. "I was counting on you forgetting that wager."

"Well, hoped for the wrong thing, didn't cha?" Edward sneered.

"Suppose I did," mused Jack, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "But I didn't call the notice of the entire tavern, just so they can hear me talk my way out of debt. No, I have a most magnificent tale to tell."

"Another one?" asked a curvaceous blonde, pretending to be exasperated.

"Yes, of course, Luv," said Jack, faking a hurt ego. "Now, can we stop this idle chit-chat so I may commence?

Silence. Everyone knew that Jack could spin a worthy yarn and was eager to hear this one.

"I'll take your speechlessness as a yes," said Jack. "I was in Jamaica a couple of weeks back, just outside of Port Royal. On that fine day, two of my friends Toby and Emmett, a lass who every one calls Big Fat Agatha and my self were sitting on this wall getting drunk. We were sitting there, drinking, laughing, having a good time, I hear something. I look around and I see two Royal Navy soldiers coming our way. So I whisper to Toby, 'Toby, there are a couple of authorities coming our way. Don't…'

"And before I can say "panic" the idiot starts screaming, 'Shit! Soldiers coming this way!'

"Predictably, the two soldiers start running our way. So we sling ourselves over the wall and start running a fast as we can! Now, I'm leading this chase and I trip into a ditch. Then Emmett lands on me, then Toby. Finally Big Fat Agatha trips and she flies through the air and lands on all three of us."

The entire tavern howled in laughter.

"You laugh now," said Jack. "But it wasn't funny then. The pain was excruciating, agonizing, unbearable and any other adjective you can think of. After we were able to untangle our selves, we hatched a plan. Toby and Emmett were going to run at the soldiers to distract them while me and Agatha were going to borrow a nearby wagon that was just sitting there with a donkey attached. Good plan, right? Emmett starts runnin' and he's looking like of them ancient Greek Olympian runners. But Toby, he just runs smack into the fatter one of the soldiers. They fall to the ground. The muscular solider (he was huge, almost as big as Funny Man) starts trying to get the Toby and the fat one off the ground. Me, Emmett and Big Fat Agatha take this as our cue to commandeer the wagon. So we run, get in the wagon, slap that donkey's ass (excuse the pun) with the reins and start to get the hell out of there.

"Then Big Fat Agatha says, 'Crap! We forgot about Toby!'

"Then, there's this yell of 'Hey! Where you going! Wait up!'

"Sure enough it is that idiot Toby, being chased and shot at by the soldiers.

"'Fuck Toby! Move!' yells Big Fat Agatha. So we move! Toby runs after us and hops onto the spending wagon and we make our most epic escape! And that's the end of the funny bits."

The entire room was roaring, chapping and someone even shouted "Encore!"

Jack gave an over-exaggerated bow and hopped down from the table. His own legend was being spread.


	5. Prompt 4: Port

My response to FreedomoftheSea's prompt, Port. Not a humor fic for once.

* * *

Jack opened the worn wooden chest, causing a creaking sound to intrude upon the air. Its contents weren't what Elizabeth was expecting. Instead of a pulsating heart, the chest was full of letters and some love tokens. Elizabeth kneeled down and picked up one of the letters. It was still sealed. The parchment felt old and dusty in her hands.

She broke the seal and carefully unfolded the letter. God, it felt so delicate!

She began to read. Luckily, the handwriting wasn't atrocious.

_My Dearest, Long Awaited Love, _

_This in the fifth piece of parchment I have tried to write this letter on. For my hands are shaking with excitement! Only three days until I make port. I hope- _

A movement caught Elizabeth's eye. She looked up from the letter. Jack and Norington were looking at another, smaller, chest. Was this the Dead Man's?

Elizabeth dropped the letter and leaned in for a closer look. She intended to read the rest of the letter later, but she never did.


	6. Prompt 5: Mask

It is hard to pin point the first time Jack Sparrow put on his first metaphorical mask. As a child, he often put on an innocent face in front of adults, and a tough one in the presence of his mates.

Time passed and the disguises grew in number and diversity. He could be a respectable man or a dirty, roughish scoundrel. Sometimes he was a literate drunk, other times a well-read philosopher. The list facades were almost as long as his list of crimes.

By the time Jack Sparrow set foot on the Port Royal dock from a sinking dinghy, not even the privileged few who could say they were closest to him were not sure of his truest nature. This was because not even Jack himself knew it.


	7. Prompt 6: Alive

Yay! A Will-Centric drabble! Warning: Will is extremly happy.

* * *

"Why do you have to go up there?" Bootstrap Bill Turner called to his son, Will. His exasperation was evident in the tone of his voice.

"Because I'll be able to see them better from here!" replied Will as he was climbing as high as he could into the sails.

Bootstrap didn't bother to tell Will that he would just have to climb down five minutes from now. You see, you simply cannot reason with a man who is about to see his true love for the first time in ten years and meet his son for the first time, especially when the said man is immortal.

As soon as Will was at the highest place on the ship possible he shouted down to the crew, "To the land of the living!"

The crew scurried to obey Captain Turner's orders for the final time. The ship dived beneath the water and a flash of green appeared before everyone's eyes.

Needless to say, being back in the living world was a bit of a shock. The air in the between realms was stale. It only existed so that the newly dead had a sense of familiarly. The atmosphere in the living world was full of smells, wind and vitality.

Will scanned the horizon. Standing on top of a grassy cliff was a woman and a boy.

Will smiled. He hadn't felt this excited since his seventh Christmas. He wasted no time climbing back down from his perch. He ran to the edge of the _Dutchman_ and dived off the side. The moment he surfaced, he started swimming towards the cliff. If he had bothered to look up, he would have seen the woman and boy rushing down a path. Will walked up onto the beach, panting. His arms and legs felt like they were filled with lead.

"You're back! Oh thank God, you're back!" Will looked up. Elizabeth and the boy who looked to be about nine or ten years old was running towards him. While the boy looked nervous (which is understandable), Elizabeth looked in extremely high spirits.

The next moment, Will and Elizabeth were holding each other in a tight embrace. Will buried his face in Elizabeth's hair and breathed in her scent.

Both of them wanted to say something. They wanted to say that they didn't want to experience the last ten years again, to express how good it was to be together again, to question how the other was faring. But, it just wouldn't feel right to talk at this moment. There was a whole lifetime ahead to talk.

Will broke the hug and cupped his wife's face in his hands. He spent a second examining her features before kissing her. He kissed her with more passion and adore than her had ever done before. This action made a thought come to him that is common sense to most people. _'I'm alive! Damn, it feels good." _


	8. Prompt 7: Nautical Jargon

WALL-E said it best, "Ta-da!"

This drabble was brought to you by the song "All Over You" by the Spill Canvas. Ask for a PM from me if you want to know why.

* * *

When the erstwhile crew of the Black Pearl prepared to set off on the voyage to Davy Jones' locker to rescue the eccentric Captain Jack Sparrow, they expected the voyage to be tedious.

Not only was it long, but they would have to spend time with possibly the most lovey-dovey couple on the planet, Will Turner and Elizabeth Swann. The crew was expecting all the kissing and the gooey talk to be like swallowing a lemon.

Then again, they might be seein' something good if Will and Elizabeth decided to do some -ahem- nautical jargon.

To the crew's delight however, the couple did not act like the fools in love they were. As a matter of fact, they barely even spoke and seemed to go out of their way to avoid each other. It was quite a relief.

Still it was a shame about the lack of nautical jargon.


	9. Prompt 8: Mary Sue and Flower

Yo! Sorry it's late, but school's horrible this week. Anyways, hope you enjoy.

* * *

It was a very beautiful day. The sun was shinning, birds were singing and every thing in Port Royal was hunky-dory. Well, no not really, because every city has issues. But we'll ignore those problems, because they aren't important to the plot of this oneshot.

Will Turner had just finished putting the finishing touches on a sword for some person who had just earned a high toned and fancy to-do position in HRM's Navy. He put up all his tools and walked out of his smithy. Normally, he didn't leave the smithy in the middle of the day, but his wife, Elizabeth had a cold (complete with stuffy nose, headache, scratchy throat, constant sneezing and all of the horrible symptoms of a cold).

Anyways, as Will was walking down the streets of Port Royal, he noticed a flower stand. He couldn't help but notice the freakin' thing. The whole thing was covered with flowers of every color of the rainbow. It was attracting quite a lot of stares.

Since Elizabeth's favorite flower was lilies; Will thought that a bouquet of those flowers would cheer her up. So, he walked over to the stand.

As soon as he got there, an overwhelming smell overpowered the poor man. It was… was… really good. Yeah, really good. The authoress isn't being lazy at all.

Then he saw the creature from which this wonderful smell was coming from. She was the loveliest thing he had ever seen. She was petite, but with curves in all the right places. Her hair was long, wavy and very clean for someone running a flower stand. And her eyes, they were grey like Athena's, no they were blue, no they were purple. Crap, they were grey again! Regardless of the changing colors, theses large orbs reflected the inner pain she must have suffered.

All thoughts of Elizabeth were driven out of Will's head (even the naughty fantasies) and were replaced with dreams of this girl.

"Who are you?" asked Will.

"I am Guinevere Piper Angelina Isley," said the girl, mournfully. "Though I wish I wasn't."

"Why ever not?" asked Will.

"Oh! Don't make me speak of it!" cried Guinevere. "It's too awful! I will only tell after you uncharacteristically sleep with me and that's only after you win my trust rather quickly."

"Very well," said Will, being way too dramatic. "You don't not have to tell."

"Oh thank you!" said Guinevere, smiling. Her teeth were straight and white. "Can I come home with you? It's so dreadful living here at my flower stand."

Will did not question Guinevere about this unrealistic idea, but said without hesitation, "Yes, of course, dearest Guin."

And with that, Will took Guin's hand and they walked back to his home, leaving the authoress of this piece to tell herself, "This is a parody, this is a parody."

Meanwhile, at the Turner household, Elizabeth was doing what most people do when they have a cold; lie in bed and feel miserable. Suddenly there was a flash of white light and a very odd girl was standing at the foot of the bed. She was looked to be somewhere in the fourteen, sixteen age range. She was wearing blue trousers made of some material Elizabeth was not familiar with and a loose, grey shirt that said 'Friesen 5K Fun Run on the top right corner.

"Sue!" cried Elizabeth, sitting up very quickly. She would have sounded very scary, except her nose was clogged up with snot.

"Whoa, whoa, relax," said the girl, raising a hand up. "I'm not a Sue! Well, technically I am, since I'm a self-insert, but I'll be out of here as soon as my job is done."

"What's your job?" asked Elizabeth, scathingly. "Seducing my husband?"

"No, I'm here to bring a warning," said the girl. "My name is Hurricane by the way. Okay, my warning. A Sue has Will."

"And why are you here?" asked Elizabeth. "I thought people like you could kill Sues from a distance."

Hurricane gave her a look. "Do you think I haven't tried? I attempted to flame her to hell when she was in the Nolan-verse, but her creator is so thick-headed."

"The Nolan-verse?"

"Parallel dimension," explained Hurricane. "Sub-category of the Bat-verse."

"What?"

"Grr, let's just say that she was in one universe, but she crossed over to this one. She claims she is the daughter of Poison Ivy and she has inherited the ability to make men fall in love with them. Don't ask how, just go with it."

Elizabeth nodded.

"We don't need to go into detail about her past," said Hurricane. "But two weeks ago, she was able to steal some of Ra's Al Ghul fear gas (if you inhale that, you'll see the thing you fear most) and she hopped into a time machine the Joker made to put someone in. Now she's here, she has Will and she is out to kill you. She'll use the fear gas to immobilize you."

"And what to you suggest I do about it?" said Elizabeth.

"Kill her with this," suggested Hurricane, holding out the sword Will made for Norrington in _Curse of the Black Pearl_.

"Where did you get that?" gasped Elizabeth.

"Nicked it from Norrington. Don't worry; I'll make sure it gets back to him. Any other weapon would have no effect on her. This sword, however, is full of cannon. If it hits a Sue it will kill her."

"What about that fear thing?" asked Elizabeth.

"Way ahead of you," said Hurricane. She took out a syringe full of liquid and swiftly injected said liquid into Elizabeth's left shoulder.

"Owwwww!" howled Elizabeth.

"Stop whimpering," said Hurricane. "I know shots are a bitch, but now you are immune to the gas."

"Thanks," grumbled Elizabeth, rubbing her arm.

Then there was the sound of the door opening and laughter.

"I've got to go," said Hurricane. "Good luck."

The flash of white light appeared and Hurricane was gone.

Elizabeth took a deep breath and tightened her grip on the sword, before walking towards the sound of laughing.

She tried to stop herself from screaming, but the sight of Will in the arms of a Sue was too much. Will and the Sue looked up.

"So you're Elizabeth," said the Sue, disentangling herself from Will. "You're the bitch that broke Will's heart. You will be punished for that. Cover your face, dearest."

She held out a perfume bottle and squirted some in the air.

Elizabeth said, "Bitch, please," before cutting the Sue with the sword. The Sue let out a bloodcurdling shriek before disappearing. With her went Will's affection for her, the fear gas and the flower stall.

"What just happened?" asked Will, hazily.

"Nothing dearest," said Elizabeth. "I would tell you to kiss me, but I got a cold."

And so the authoress ends things here because she is too lazy to write more.


	10. Prompt 9: Candle

This oneshot was brought to you by the wonderful Tarlea. In her closing AN she mentioned the Hand of Glory and a plot bunny bit me. So thanks, Tarlea!

* * *

Sleep is good; there is no doubt about that. But unfortunately Mr. Mullroy was unable to do it. Every time he began to nod off, he would receive a sharp cuff on the shoulder from his partner, Murtogg.

"Do ya have ta to that?" asked Mullroy grumpily after the tenth cuff.

"It's our job to guard the fort," explained Murtogg indignantly. "Make sure no one robs it."

"Who'd be stupid enough to rob Fort Charles?" asked Mullroy, massaging his bruised shoulder.

Murtogg shrugged. "I dunno. People have done stupider things."

"Like what?"

Before Mullroy could answer the torches went out. It wasn't like a sharp gust of wind had whooshed down the rather creepy corridor. They just went out, leaving the two guards in total darkness.

"Wot just happened?" stammered Mullroy.

"I dunn- Wot's sound?" responded Murtogg, looking around in the darkness. For there was a soft thumping coming from the end of the corridor and the sound was approaching.

"Footsteps?" guessed Mullroy. "I don't like this. Do you have a match or something?"

"Why would I be carrying a match?"

Suddenly, there was a loud smacking sound and Murtogg fell to the ground.

Mullroy balked, but before he could do or say anything, there was a sharp pain is his head; a flash of white light and everything went black.

Jack Sparrow dropped the board he had used to knock out the two sentries and bent down to examine them. He held a horrible lamp up, it's light spreading. The lamp was a brown, dry, shriveled hand. Its fingernails were black as tar and cracked like the hooves of an unshod horse. The fingers were curled around a lit tallow candle. Wax dripped on to the hand like thick, yellow teardrops.

"Good, you'll both live," said Jack. "I was worried I would have your murders on my conscious. Though, I rarely listen to my conscious."

He paused, looking at his horrible light. "You've been good company," he told it. "Giving light to me and me alone is a wonderful trick. But, alas we must part. For while you are extremely useful for these kinds of raids, you are rather unnerving and nerve keeps me alive, savvy?"


	11. Prompt 10: Priority

My first Norrie-centric fic! Yay! I hope I did him justice.

* * *

Slowly, James Norrington stood up, using the giant, fallen wheel to support himself. His head still felt like it was going around and around, thanks to the hellish ride he had just been on.

Instantly, he saw the tiny rowboat that had taken Jack, Elizabeth, those two fools and himself here. Water splashed around his ankles as he ran towards the boat. He stopped abruptly when he reached it, grabbing its side to prevent himself from falling over. He reached inside it and took out Jack's coat. Norrington rummaged through the pockets and quickly found the leather bound Letter of Marque.

Now, where was the Heart of Davy Jones, the most disgusting of bargaining chips?

James noticed there was a pile of dirt on one of the benches on the rowboat. He couldn't recall seeing it on the trip here… He looked at Jack's jar of dirt. The jar was still full. That was odd. He quickly concluded that the heart was in the jar.

James looked up at Jack. Sparrow was engaged in a fight with one of the _Dutchman's _crewmembers a couple yards away.

Jack was an ass, but did he deserve the years of torment he was going to have to endure if he couldn't use the heart to bargain for his freedom?

_'No,' _though James, pushing that thought away as he opened the jar of dirt and began digging through it. _'Returning to my former rank is a higher priority than sparing a man who loves to make a fool out of me.' _


	12. Prompt 11: Music

Here's my response to "music." Just some Willabeth.

* * *

Elizabeth felt as though the world had ended. Her father, the one person who she knew she could always trust, was gone. His soul was sailing on a rowboat, into the black unknown, leaving Elizabeth behind.

Despite a feeling grief so intense, it made Elizabeth's chest feel hollow, she wasn't alone. The ever loyal Will Turner was with her, sitting with her on the deck of the _Black Pearl_. All through that horrible night, Will held Elizabeth as she cried into his shoulder.

"It's all my fault," said Elizabeth, her body shaking with her sobs. "It's my fault he's gone."

"Don't say that," said Will. "You weren't even there."

"Why?" asked Elizabeth. "W-why my father? Why?"

"I don't know," said Will, a trace of sigh in his voice. He tried to say something comforting, but nothing good came to his mind. He had never been able to put his words together with a poet's skill. Instead, Will gently started rubbing Elizabeth's back.

The saying, 'actions speak louder than words' seemed to be true, for Elizabeth's weeping subsided. Her head slipped off his shoulder, and rested itself above where his heart was. The steady beating of his heart was as comforting as a lullaby.

Elizabeth had heard many pieces of wonderful music. They were complex melodies, created by violins, harps, drums, flutes and many other instruments. Yet, the simple rhythm of Will's heart was the most beautiful song Elizabeth could recall hearing.


End file.
